We who were left behind
by Ollen70
Summary: Vengeance, driven by rage, can blind even the most pragmatic individual. For Illyria and Eve, there is nothing else. Set pre and post ‘Not Fade Away.’
1. Chapter 1

Ollen70: A lot of people have written stories that change the ending of Not Fade Away' so that everybody survives or so the outcome is less depressing. In this story, I tried to keep it as true to the cannon as I could, while still telling the story I set out to tell. Please let me know what you think, and let me know of any improvements I could make.   
  
Disclaimer: The premise of Angel and the characters contained therein are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this story.  
  
We who were left behind  
  
There was nothing living in the alleyway when Illyria finally turned away. Not even anything undead. Every single creature, every single body that did not burst into flame or fade away into nothingness was utterly, maddeningly still. There was no reason for her to stay, so she didn't.  
  
The two vampires were gone. The one called Spike, with whom she had sparred from time to time, had fallen first. One of the daemons had run him through completely, but even as he was breaking apart, he still swung his sword until the hands that held it were little more than a pile of ash and dust.  
  
Angel, as the other one was named, had fared only a little better. The legions upon legions of daemons broke on him first, like the water that still poured ceaselessly from the sky. Their broken, mutilated forms lay in gory heaps, pathetic now instead of frightening. Eventually, though, even his prowess was exhausted and he fell under the sheer weight of their enemies. When they cleared, there had been no sign of him. He, like the other, was now truly gone.   
  
Out of a vain hope, Illyria had fought to spare the last human from the daemons. Gunn was weaker than either of the undead warriors, but he had miraculously lived longer than either of his companions. His mortal body was dripping with the essence of his life so thickly that she could nearly taste it when she pulled him close.   
  
Some duty to the one who had guarded and guided her made her want to save him. Wesley would have, she was sure, if he had been able to. The weakness of her mortal facade kept her from reaching him before the old wizard had cut into his fragile body. Her ancient power, the ability to walk through time as though it were mere mist, could have saved him. In light of that failure, she had done all that her weaknesses allowed to save the others. And again, there would be only failure.  
  
Pushing him out of the alley hadn't saved his life. It had only given him a few moments longer to suffer, until he too was overtaken and destroyed. At that she had let herself go. These fell creatures did not pay her reverence any more than the humans had, and they should know better. The wolf, the ram, and the heart had feared her in her rage, and they under-estimated her now.  
  
Her power was diminished, but by no means lost. It had taken her until now to remember it. All of her opponents suffered before they died - she was careful to be certain of it. All of them curled to the ground with screams of utter agony, if they lived long enough even to scream.   
  
Now, there was nothing left for her in this place, save for one still form that was alone near the alley's center. Gunn lay where he had fallen, covered with cuts and leaking that absurd red fluid humans kept beneath their skin.  
  
Leaning over the man's still body, she lifted it reverently from the tainted water that filled the alley. Humans cared for the dead, as useless as it seemed. They cleaned the bodies and made them beautiful again, one last time, before they were sealed in the ground or set alight to glow into the night. Their flames were brief, but that was only fitting. These mortal lives never lasted long, but each of them were very much like the fires that devoured them. The heat and light they gave was so very sparse, and yet the memory of it alone would be enough to last a lifetime, if need be.   
  
Illyria had other things to keep her warm. The ones who had done this to her guide and the ones he was close to were all dead and their bodies could not be desiccated any more than they already had been. A shame, but at the same time, there would always be others. And they should suffer as well.   
  
x x x x x x   
  
Within a matter of minutes, she had retrieved the body of her fallen guide and placed it alongside the shell of Gunn. Often humans kept something sometimes referred to as a shell collection' but Illyria did not think that this what exactly what they meant. Humans were too skittish of such things to do so.   
  
In the warm lobby of an empty hotel, she laid the body of Wesley carefully on a red carpet. The hotel was a convenient location not far from the alley in which they had fought. Its location was gained from the memory of Winifred Burkle. Illyria doubted if she would mind, given that her affection for Wesley was strong. At the same time, it mattered little to Illyria if anyone approved of what she did.   
  
She herself didn't understand why she went to such trouble for a dead creature so obviously inferior to her. It was inappropriate for her to have felt anything for something so weak - anything other than contempt, of course - but the sight of him now, still weakly oozing the red liquid onto the matching carpet, filled her with a newly mounting rage.   
  
Why don't you go, and leave this world behind?' He had once asked her. Why indeed? Why did she not go, and take him with her? He might have protested at first, but it would have been of no consequence. She should have known he was going to die, and even though it was a possibility she hadn't considered looking into, part of her did.  
  
Glaciers that rippled with insensate lust, opaline towers as high as small moons... She'd told him of these things, told him of how they enticed her, of how she longed to look on them again. The wonders of worlds he could never hope to understand, mingled with the loss she struggled with, knowing to the depth of her being that nothing could ever feel right for her again.  
  
You can go,' he had whispered plaintively. Why don't you go?' And she had struck him, made to kill him for trespassing her so, not realizing why he had said those things. It was not that he had wanted her to leave, taking the body she now wore out of his sight, as she had first assumed. His intentions, she realized, were very different. He had wanted to go with her.   
  
Perhaps things would have been very different if she had. Perhaps her shell would have broken and he would have been stranded in a part of this glorious universe that had no love for humans. Perhaps. But he would be alive. And she would not feel so strange, as if her body was collapsing in on itself. The others had called it... loneliness...  
  
Pacing across the floor, a new hatred was building in her mind. There was only one who could help her exact the vengeance she ached for. The bodies of the daemons reeked of the power of those who were called the senior powers, and that stench still clung to one other. One who was not yet dead, and who could be of great assistance to her. Wolfram and Hart were out of her reach in her current state, but there was more than one way to accomplish her ends. Raising her nose to the scent, she left the hotel lobby with purpose.   
  
Ollen70: I'm thinking this will end up being a two-chapter story, maybe three at the very most. Thanks for taking the time to read it. Suggestions are very greatly appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Ollen70: I'd like to give an enormous thank-you' to Christina Brown for her e-mail, and lonely Brit and littlesoprano for their reviews. I wasn't really expecting anybody to read this at all, because I didn't think I did a very good job with it, but I'm really glad that you guys like it thus far. Your comments help me beyond belief.   
  
Disclaimer: The premise of Angel and the characters contained therein are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this story.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.  
  
Alfred, Lord Tennyson  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
The small building she entered was relatively empty. It was a dim place, decorated with hangings and rustic mementos of human history that Wesley had once called nostalgic.' On a stool, surrounded by many oddly shaped vessels for liquid sat the woman Illyria sought.   
  
So, he sent you to get me too. Eve's speech was untidy, laced with a great deal of the poison Wesley had been so fond of. She listed irregularly on the stool, exhibiting the unlikely and often amazing human propensity for balance. Go way. Wouldn' matter if you kill me, an'way.  
  
Illyria surveyed the woman for a long moment. Humans were so sickening, with their petty weaknesses and far-too-frequent descents into utter shame. In this, Wesley had not been an exception, but she had deemed him worthy of forgiveness for it. That was a privilege she had no intention of extending to anyone else; least of all this pitiful creature, this thing that had once been in league with the very evil who had robbed her of her guide.  
  
You and I have business with one another.  
  
Angel really doesn't do his own dirty work any more, does he? These words were clearer, and Illyria questioned at once how much of Eve's stupor was feigned. Or self-induced. If he wanted me dead, he had the opportunity once already. He must be getting soft.  
  
Angel is gone; the others with him. I have not yet seen the green daemon, but if he is not living, then you and I are but the last who still live.  
  
What, you think that makes me sad or something? You come here to reminisce? Well, guess what? She leaned close and Illyria discovered that her taste in the liquid poison made her breath a good deal less agreeable than Wesley's, You and I aren't buddies. You don't even have any powers now, so I suggest you get lost. Understand?  
  
There are a great many things in this world that are now unclear to me. This situation is not one of them. I have business with you, and you will come with me to see it fulfilled.  
  
Eve sneered, And just how do you plan to pull that off?  
  
Catching the woman by the wrist was simple, as the liquid had slowed her reflexes to an even more deplorable rate. She was no match for Illyria. Pulling her bodily from the stool was easier still. Since the establishment was not meant for all types of mortals - elitist, Wesley would have called it - many of them cast her disapproving glances as she dragged the staggering Eve in her wake, but it mattered little. It was very likely they cared more about her unique appearance than about Eve's fate. Human opinions were less than irrelevant.   
  
Getting Eve from her sanctum out into the streets and through the rain was not a difficult feat. Though Illyria's power was faded, a shadow of what it once was, she had more than enough left - even after the battle- to be more formidable than any other creature living. Eve could not refuse her anything.   
  
She could - and did - talk a great deal, reminding Illyria of the beginning of her reign, all those eons ago, when the human race had risen. She had found it peculiar, the ceaseless noise they seemed so intent on creating. Eve apparently had not risen above that inclination. She blubbered from their departure until they reached the hotel.   
  
Why did you bring me here? The red-haired woman sputtered. We're not safe anywhere. The senior partners will find us...  
  
You are mistaken, Illyria told her calmly, watching annoyance taint Eve's proud features.   
  
What would you know? _I _was their liaison. I _know _the senior partners better than anyone else on earth. I _know _what they'll do to us. What they'll do to that bastard, Angel.  
  
You are wrong. Eve's face mottled at this. The senior partners have risen in power greatly, but they are by no means omniscient. Time was my sky, my earth, the warp and weft on my loom, but I did not create it any more than I set the pattern. Neither do the senior partners. Angel believed that they did, and he took that belief with him into eternity. In speaking, Illyria found that the overpowering sense of incompleteness only grew. What she had lost was never becoming less of a burden. Eve only snorted derisively.  
  
So Angel's dead. Good.  
  
You take joy in death?  
  
Eve stiffened at this, then appeared to notice the forms of Wesley and Gunn for the first time. Before leaving, Illyria had covered Wesley up to his face in a soft blanket, granting herself the illusion of his comfort.  
  
What are you doing? Why are you keeping it here? Eve pulled away and covered her mouth in what Illyria recognized as disgust. It was an emotion better reserved for more important things, and certainly had no business being used in reference to her guide.  
  
You insult him in my presence?  
  
No, no... The woman held up her hands and backed away. It's just that... well, it's gonna start to stink... Again her brow creased and her nose wrinkled.  
  
Illyria didn't understand. She breathed in deeply over Wesley's still form. No more than the rest of you mortals do already.  
  
He'll start to rot. When Illyria only cocked her head, Eve sighed. Small creatures will start to eat his body, until he decays.  
  
They would not dare.  
  
No, see, you don't understand...  
  
I understand that you did not appreciate his worth, and now he is dead. I understand that you had no love for any of them, and yet you are the only one left. You will stay with me, fallen servant of my enemies, though it is more than you rightly deserve. If you do not do so, or speak ill of him again, you will have much to fear.  
  
Just don't ask me to do the same for Angel. Eve looked at her hands and again Illyria watched the expression shift. This time, it was sorrow and confusion that clouded the face before her, mixed with more than a little rage. That bastard got Lindsay killed.  
  
Each took their own chance. None can live forever - Lindsay knew this.  
  
Well, either way, he's dead.  
  
And do you not wish that his killers suffer for what they have done? For what they have taken from you? Illyria studied the woman before her more carefully now. Everything in this creature's next few actions would tell her what she needed to know.   
  
I have every reason to believe that Angel killed Lindsay. There was a note of disbelief in her tone, and Illyria clung to it.  
  
And yet you do not. You blame Them for his death, as well you should. They have robbed you because of your love for the long-haired belligerent one. Should they not be made to pay?  
  
Even you can't fight them. They'd destroy you. The sneering callousness was back, but Illyria only smiled coldly in reply. How little this woman knew.  
  
I will, just the same. And you will fight with me.  
  
You're crazy. You're absolutely crazy. Eve sat down on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest in the human portrayal of defiance. If it was meant to be threatening, it was a feeble gesture. One smooth movement, and the woman was off the velvet cushions and in Illyria's arms, being carried forcefully from the room.   
  
Wait! Wait...  
  
Illyria paused for a moment, and Eve caught her breath.  
  
We really should do something about the bodies.  
  
What suggestion do you offer?  
  
Ollen70: I'm thinking this might end up being longer than three chapters, but I'm not sure. When I started, I'd meant for it to be a one-shot, but that apparently isn't gonna happen. Anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read it. Hopefully, more will be coming soon.


	3. chapter 3

Ollen70: To all those who took the time to send a review, thank you. Imzadi, tp96, William, shahid, and Stealth Noodle respectively. I don't think I've ever gotten quite so many reviews for such a short story, and it helps so much to know what people think. Thanks again, everybody.  
  
Disclaimer: The premise of Angel and the characters contained therein are the property of someone else. No money is being made from this story.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x   
  
The leaves fall, fall from far,  
Like distant gardens withered in the heavens.  
  
Rainer Marie Rilke  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x   
  
There was no kingly robe for Wesley's body, nor a circlet of gold for his brow, nor a bed of roses in which she could lay him. Aside from these things, Illyria was not certain what should be done for him. She had heard that those who were honored among mortals were dealt with in this way, but was not at all sure if it would be appropriate for Wesley, even if it were within her power to do such things.  
  
Eve, in her legendary presumptuousness, had suggested leaving both bodies out in the rain, where they would certainly be taken care of. Someone would find them, she reasoned, and they would be buried appropriately.   
  
People would ask questions, she'd said, if either she or Illyria tried to bury them on their own. Like how they died, or why their deaths hadn't been reported. No one would believe the truth, the woman claimed, and it was better to distance themselves from the situation as much as they could before things got bad.  
  
Illyria knelt on the carpet beside Wesley's prone form, watching him lie in the eternal sleep of oblivion. The great towers of the other world, shining blue and translucent over the white glare of snow, would have been a fitting resting place for him, but she could not ever reach that place again, no matter how she tried.  
  
Eve dwelled in her own corner of the lobby, crouched jealously over the body of her lover as if Illyria meant to steal him from her. Illyria had gone not hours before and retrieved him from the overwhelming carnage of the daemon's lair. She still remembered how well he had done his work, how mutilated his enemies had been. His body weight was nothing to her, so she bore it free of difficulty back into the hotel, the place Eve called the Hyperion.'  
  
Matutinal light shone through the high windows of the building. Outside waited a dawning that had known no rain and no bloodshed, an innocently naive creature in the face of the day before. Illyria found that she hated the light, though it had done her no wrong. The world should have the decency to lend her darkness to shadow her sorrow. None should know that she suffered.   
  
x x x x x x   
  
The halls of the Hyperion were still filled with a great many books of great value to Illyria. Wesley, having dabbled in magic, had a large collection of very intriguing texts, tomes filled with spells she was certain he never might have cast. A great many of them were far beyond her ability, involving rites so complex that it was a wonder they were ever derived at all. Humans, being petty, tiresome and utterly without grace, were at the very least resourceful.  
  
Chanting in a slow, long-forgotten tongue, Illyria leveled one hand at the stiff body of Charles Gunn. Streamers of cold light embraced his form until his edges began to flutter and blur. Without warning, the light tripled in intensity, then flared so brightly that Eve came running from the other end of the lobby.  
  
What the hell...?!  
  
Illyria felt herself darkening, but did not turn. She kept her focus on the task at hand until there was nothing left before her - not even a stray ash - to signify that there had ever been a person there. Once finished, she turned and faced Eve, the one who had interrupted her gift to gift to Gunn, the quiet sanctity she'd given him in a dignified end.   
  
What did you do? Eve took a quick step back, a gesture that seemed to bring her comfort whenever Illyria was near. What happened to the body?  
  
Its presence upset you. I disposed of it, as you requested. The magical fire had done its duty well. And Gunn, as one could have anticipated, burned with a glory that none would have expected, had they not known of his intricacies.  
  
Well... well, okay...   
  
Are you not familiar with the words of power?   
  
Eve blinked, clearly not expecting the question. Daemons don't usually use magic the way the rest of us do...  
  
You yourself are a magic-user? Illyria let her head fall to one side. Eve may have more uses than she had first thought. There had been many options to be considered. Since Drodyn was dead, the hole in the world was utterly without a guardian. If Eve could be lured there, and one of the other Ancients wakened...  
  
That was quickly dismissed. Eve knew better than to venture to that place, and Illyria had no idea what another of her kind would do to her once it found her in such a weakened state. Even beyond that, there was no guarantee that the other would be willing to challenge Wolfram and Hart alongside her, especially when it must bear the brunt of the assault.   
  
At any rate, without Wesley, an Ancient could only last so long before Eve's shell, already afflicted because of her past as liaison, weakened and shattered. No, it was better to leave Eve as she was and to wield the other woman in her current form, which was more dangerous than any might guess. If Eve knew of magic and could cast it well, she was worth guarding.  
  
I am capable of many things that other daemons could never attempt. I, who was feared beyond the boundary of mortality, beyond the coil of life. Casting feeble magic out of a _book _is no grand feat.  
  
Eve gave her a cruel smirk. Too bad it's all you can do, after Wesley pinned you down. I guess the mighty really have fallen.  
  
I could smite you where you stand, child of the broken and flowing earth. I need neither magic nor power to crush a life as pitiful as yours.  
  
Then why don't you? Even sneered again, twisting her expression into an ugly mass, a mockery of her usual beauty.  
  
Watching the woman, Illyria remembered one of the very first encounters she had shared, after finding her armies lost and the world a hostile place. You, like Wesley, are merely baiting me. You selfishly hope that I might end your pain, instead of showing valor and living to torment those who wronged you.   
  
Yeah. It's funny, you know? You won't come right out and say it, but we both know you need me. You don't have anybody else. Don't think I'll let you forget that.  
  
As Eve sauntered away - back toward Lindsey's body - Illyria marveled at her own self-restraint. Or perhaps she really was growing tolerant of these ignoble creatures. In many ways, that disturbed her.   
  
Turning back to the carpet that now held only one still form, she raised one hand again and consulted the twisted characters blooming on the page of the book she clutched in her other arm. Again, the same bright fire and growing lucence spread over him. This time, however, the flames cleared to reveal one final remnant of him. It was a solitary opal, the size of her palm, which she retrieved and kept in her hand. Still warm from the magical fire, she found that it comforted her.   
  
x x x x x x  
  
Eve followed Illyria carefully - the woman's shoes made a wet squelch as she tried unsuccessfully to navigate around the remains of several daemons. Wolfram and Hart, according to Eve, wasn't quite through with them.   
  
Seven daemon assassins had come, obviously hoping to take them off-guard and finish off the last two remaining members of the Wolfram and Hart Los Angeles branch. It was Eve, to her credit, who'd spotted them first, lurking on the upper walkways of the Hyperion, and the red-haired woman's magical prowess was shown to its fullest degree.   
  
Calling down something like a bolt of lightning, Eve had blown two of the seven down onto the the lowest level, where Illyria quickly and easily put an end to their suffering. The next five had leapt at them both, wielding katanas and long, cruel claws. Illyria, using a blade gained from the gruesome, burned remnant of one of the fallen warriors, did not stop swinging until her attackers were well and truly flayed.   
  
After that, Eve had gotten ill. Not knowing what was expected of her, Illyria patted Eve on the back while she wretched. A defiant sneer, weakened because of her condition, took its accustomed place on Eve's lips.  
  
I'm fine.   
  
Illyria cocked her head, not bothering to reply.  
  
We have to get out of here, Eve said at last. If they've found us, more are going to come soon enough. When Illyria told her that it mattered little, and that there was no reason why they should stay, Eve's sneer deepened.  
  
Have you disposed yet of the long-haired one's remains? Do they tie you to this place? I will not be troubled to carry them with us, if they go. Much was sacrificed to liberate him, and his uses in life were passing sufficient. I doubt if his mortal shell will do us good. After Eve's outburst when she discovered the bodies of Wesley and Gunn and her odd behavior over Lindsey's, Illyria didn't know at all what to expect from her.   
  
Just... just give me a minute...  
  
Eve reappeared a moment later. There had been a swelling of magic that Illyria could feel in her teeth from the other room, but now all was calm.   
  
was all she said. Okay, let's go.  
  
Ollen70: More coming, just as soon as I figure out where I'm going with this. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Ollen70: Since I came in on the tail end of the series (end of season four, all of season 5), I have no idea how much of this is going to be accurate, but I'll do the best I can with what I know. If any of this is horrendously incorrect, please don't hesitate to let me know. I'll be happy to correct it.   
  
Chapter 4  
  
The Seattle branch of Wolfram and Hart was obviously much more lax on security than the Los Angeles branch had been. With the fall of the black thorn, one would have assumed that the senior partners would have ensured more protection for their employees.   
  
Illyria thought of all of this in passing, as she hefted a well-dressed woman through a row of strikingly familiar windows. The large bludgeon the woman was holding fell from her hands with a disordinant clatter, but the other sounds in the lobby were more than enough to muffle it.   
  
Beside her, Eve shouldered a double-bladed axe that she'd taken from the Hyperion, whirling it expertly above her head before slamming it into the chest of a very large red, multi-clawed daemon. There were already holes in the walls and ceiling from Eve's more powerful magical workings, and behind them the secretary's desk was already blazing merrily.   
  
Seattle's division of evil would feel their wrath, just as Portland had not days before. And there, in the heart of that city, the senior partners had reigned down terror, just as they had when the circle of the black thorn had been destroyed. In the streets the battle had raged, ending when blood flowed and fires burned long into the night. In the middle of the carnage, Illyria and Eve had slipped off to head further north. Their task was far from finished.   
  
Eve called to her, decapitating a smaller daemon with another brutal swing, This is a hell of a lot easier than waiting for them to find _us_.   
  
I agree. Two more fire spells cost the building its staircase and the executive offices. There were very few creatures left for them to fight, since most had been killed right away in the initial onslaught. Though many of Illyria's powers were gone beyond recovery, her strength was certainly not one of them. It seemed that, everyday, a small portion of her old might was returning to her, and that in turn lent Eve more courage.   
  
The blood on Illyria's gloved hands proved her new-found worth, much as they had when she'd matched herself against the feeble old wizard, the murderer of her guide. Thinking back to that memory, she let it feed her already formidable wrath. None of these insects who stood before her would live - she swore it on what she used to be.   
  
The moon is a silver scimitar, resting on a velvet cushion of black. She'd read in one of Wesley's thick, well-worn books, like it was a magical spell or a phrase of power. It was from a collection of old mortal songs, holding neither the majesty nor the authority of the songs of her memory, but it sang in her mind. Just as her fists sang when they parted the air. And usually, more than air.   
  
Wesley. He was gone. It was past time for her to erase him from her memory... but then, Wesley had been her only root into this world. Without him to guide her, without his biases to sway and weaken her, why should she care for any of the meager creatures that swarmed over the earth? Her purpose was to punish those who had wronged her. Wolfram and Hart had assaulted her - tried to kill her, and had taken away the one who guided her. They had left her blind and alone in this strange little world. She would see that they suffered for it.  
  
Everyone was forgetting. Even Wolfram and Hart, and for that they were indeed fools. Though Illyria wore the body of a mortal, had spoken closely with one of them, had learned and followed by his example, she was not a mortal. And, what was more, she was no longer shackled by their idealisms. She was free, at last, to do exactly as she saw fit, and no one was going to stop her.  
  
What did you say? Eve called over her shoulder, shooting Illyria a troubled look. Illyria's next blow sent most of a daemon sailing over Eve's head and crashing through one of the supporting pillars of the building.   
  
We must go, Illyria replied, gesturing to the fractured pillar. Around them, the building began to shake. Once again, they had completed their mission adequately, and it would be fool-hardy to stay until the senior partners brought the rest of the building down around them, as they most certainly would.  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
They sat together in one of the establishments that served the poison Eve drank regularly. She chose cheaper varieties than did Wesley, but it all smelled the same to Illyria. Letting her nose wrinkle in distaste, she focused on what she had been brought by the short, fat man behind the bar. Eve had called it grilled cheese, and was exceptionally greasy, but tasted better when eaten with the long, green slivers that were supposedly some sort of vegetable transfigured.   
  
Most of what Eve told her made very little sense, as it became less distinguishable the more she drank, until every other word either slandered Angel or dealt with the death of Lindsey. Illyria quickly felt herself growing vexed, until she swiveled on the bar-stool to glare at the former liaison darkly.   
  
You, in your weakness, still cling to what used to be. Forever will you treasure the past. never moving beyond what you have lost. Pathetic, how you live blindly in a crumbling ruin and yet bemoan your own malcontent. What is your life but a flawed vessel, cracked and broken in the firing?  
  
Eve looked at her closely, narrowing and then widening her eyes often as if Illyria weren't holding still. What, you think going all high and mighty is gonna impress me or something? Can you even tell what a hipocrite you are? You're the one who's pathetic, always goin' on about what you used to be.  
  
You mistake what you see. I whimper over nothing, but I shall make this world mourn what was lost - what they have taken away. She sat Eve upright, spilling over the woman's drink in the process. Neither of them paid it any attention, though the man behind the bar shouted something that Illyria did not understand. Enough of this futility. You cannot overcome me, so stop this foolish struggle. Let there be an accordance between you and I, that we will not turn our swords at each-other's backs while there is one enemy left breathing. Our vengeance must know no end.   
  
Though she and Even had been fighting the same war until now, there was never any talk of alliance. Illyria couldn't afford such uncertainty, with each day becoming more bleak. They must stand together, or eventually they would both be destroyed.   
  
Eve gave her a ragged, half-smile that only touched her lips. When her eyes fell, it was replaced by the stirrings of what mortals called self-doubt.'   
  
I'm running out of reasons, you know?  
  
Illyria cocked her head at that. She did not know.   
  
Eve sighed. It was a common sound. I can't go back, and it's not like there's anything left to look forward to. I... I can't believe this is my life. It's like it all just fell apart. I mean.. it's just... it's sad.  
  
Then do not succumb. Live, if only to give your enemies reason to curse your shadow. Kill all memory of the ones who wronged you. Avenge them that are dead, and avenge what you may have once been. Take life out of the blood of others.   
  
Eve was silent for a long time. Her hand came up once, gripping Illyria's timidly, as if she feared something bad would happen to her. When their fingers were entwined, Eve moved their hands up and down weakly before letting go. Folding her arms, she lay her head down on them and sobbed.   
  
Not knowing what else to do, Illyria turned back to the cold plate before her. She was not sure what Eve had done, but she knew they are as one mind now. They had the same goal again, and it gave her a very small amount of peace.   
  
Ollen70: Sorry it's taken me awhile to post this. I've had a lot going on. Next week is finals, but after that, I should have a lot of time to write. Thanks to Imzadi for reviewing, and thanks to everyone who's bothered to read thus far. Suggestions are always appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

  
  
Chapter 5  
  
First it had been the human territory called California, the easiest to purge of daemonic influence - Eve had been surprised at that. Oregon followed, Wolfram and Hart's holdings collapsing to dust in a single day. After the destruction of the Seattle central office, the reign of terror Illyria and Eve were bringing on the senior partners only began to speed up.  
  
The Midwest,' as Eve called it, fell even more rapidly, but there were consequences to their over-confidence. Eve spent more than one night in a hospital bed after the attack on the Great Falls branch, while Illyria sat at her side, adorned in a long trench-coat, sun glasses and a fedora. She felt like a fool, but Eve thought it better than her masquerading as Fred. Illyria had to agree. Now that Wesley was gone, she no longer wished to experiment with the human side of her host. When she did, it only served to kindle her rage.  
  
New York was Eve's next destination. Illyria normally let her choose, since it mattered little to her where she did her killing, as long as it was done. While at times it felt as if Eve were using her as a chess piece, as cannon or a magical spell to wield as she would. Illyria knew that the other woman understood this world far better than she herself was likely to. She would follow Eve, until this task was done.  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
The neon streets of the city reminded her weakly of the once-great structures she had seen in other worlds, now long forgotten. These sky-scrapers,' as they were called, were no-where near as grand, understandably, but they held a power and an awe that was still very difficult to deny. Humans, it seemed, were remarkable creatures in their own right. Who knew that the toys of the Creator would some day be capable of all of this?  
  
Walking slowly through the shadows and tricks of the almost-night that the city provided, Illyria kept her eyes on all places at once. Eve had said they were here to meet someone, without saying anything at all about who that person would be. Illyria doubted if any human could be of use to them, and, owing to their current reputation, it was unlikely that any daemons would come within twenty leagues of them, if they had any sort of choice.  
  
A summons from the now-legendary Eve might be enough to persuade them, if they thought the former leison to the once-omnipresent Wolfram and Hart  
might be coming for them. She and Eve were feared now, which did not always work in their favor. Daemons often provided useful information, and now those resources were lost to them.  
  
_It was worth it,' _Eve often said, _to see the way they looked at us when we trashed the Portland offices that first time.' _but Illyria wasn't always as sure as her companion. How else would they know what was lying in wait for them?  
  
A dark, leather-clad figure dropped down on them as soon as they stepped into the alleyways behind one of the taller buildings, but it was of little concern. Illyria caught the figure, slamming it up against the sheets of metal and other obscure things littering the enclosed space.  
  
It was a woman, lips barred in a cold sneer, her shoulder-length brown hair waving as she thrashed against the the hand Illyria had placed over her throat. In many ways, the woman looked a great deal like the human who had once occupied the body Illyria now dwelt in, though these woman's eyes were anything but soft.  
  
Illyria tightened her grip slowly, patiently, watching for the stretching in the other woman's eyes. It was Eve who burst between them, waving her arms above her head the way humans who were considered defective often did. Perhaps Eve had finally broken herself. At any rate, Illyria let the woman drop. Her hands immediately went to her throat, a definitive glare darkening her face.  
  
No! No! No, no, no! You don't wanna do that! See, she's our friend! You don't wanna...!  
  
You treat me as if I am a child of your race. And yet I am a being who has lived since before the Creator even concieved the notion of your doomed existence.  
  
Um... are the two of you having... problems... of your own, here? Cause I can give you a little private time, if you think it'd help...  
  
Eve cast the woman one of the blacker glares she kept in her arsenal. Illyria did the same, enjoying the winces they both ellicited. It did not excuse Eve for not informing her of whom they were meeting, but she always felt more at peace when they shared a common opponent.  
  
So you are the two everyone's been talking about, I take it. The woman's careless expression almost provoked Illyria again. How dare any human use such an off-hand tone with her? Even Eve might not have been forgiven for that.  
  
We are the darkness that the darkness fears.  
  
I was afraid you'd say something like that.  
  
Eve appeared between them, her arms outspread placatingly. Don't... I mean, sometimes you just have to... overlook... the things she says. She's kinda... new here.  
  
Um... yeah, I... I sorta gathered that much. The girl nodded as she spoke, letting her shoulders be part of the gesture. Good luck hiding her from Buffy, though. She won't let something like this go.  
  
Then I will face her, if she challenges me. And she will fall. Whoever this Buffy was, she could certainly be no more imposing than any member of the daemonic sydicate that they had fought so far. If she is one like you, one who destroys, why would it bother her so to learn that we wish to erradicate the vermin in this world?  
  
Well, it's just that... Buffy's sort of... particular. I just don't think she'll take this too well.  
  
Her particularities are of no consequence. We fight to the same end, do we not? She will appreciate what gifts we give her.  
  
My blue friend does have something of a point... Eve said, falling on her face when she attempted levity. Faith gave her a very dry glance. Well, think about it, Eve went on, slightly abashed. So far, the only thing anyone in the daemon world is talking about is what we've been doing to Wolfram and Hart. I mean, let's face it, the rest of you are all old news. Who cares if you have an army of slayers? The two of us are doing your job for you, better than you've been doing on your own...  
  
Oh, so you avert one little apocalypse and give the senior powers a black eye, and now suddenly you think you're all high and mighty? I've got news for you. If you think these things are always gonna stay easy, you're in for a surprise. Sooner or later, they're gonna start putting things over on you, so don't get a big head about anything just yet.  
  
And I guess you know about falling at the finish line, wouldn't you? Eve sneered angrily. After all, look what you did to Wesley. Yeah, I heard about that, she said, in response to the grimace crossing the woman's face. Illyria looked up in surprise at that. This woman knew her keeper?  
  
Where is Wesley now? What about Angel and the others?  
  
Eve said calmly. Too calmly. I'm sure you know the consequences of messing with something as powerful as the Wolfram and Hart firm. The Senior Partners didn't take Angel's... management strategy... all that well.  
  
He's dead? Wait a minute... what? The woman, Faith, seemed to be having a difficult time believing the truth, or at least it hadn't begun to affect her yet. Humans were so inane when it came to grief. Instead of wasting time in denial, they should channel sorrow, use it to grow stronger.  
  
We've been over this, Eve barked out rashly. I told you all of this when we talked last. You wanted to get us here to talk, so talk. It's not like we have much time right about now.  
  
Did someone follow you? Faith still seemed less-than-atuned to Eve's words, as if upset over the news. Perhaps there had been some sort of past between her guide and this slayer. It was something she would have to keep in her mind - Eve might know something of it, and she would talk of it later.Illyria would make sure of that.  
  
Big things are up, guys, Faith said, in her unflattering tone once more. We've got stuff to talk about, but I don't want to do it here. I bet the two of you have eyes on you all the time. She shuddered slightly. I hate to think what kind of creepy-crawly fly-on-the-wall type monsters they've got watching you, but I think I'd rather not find out tonight, if I can help it.  
  
Don't worry. We'll protect you. Eve's snide drawl was distinct enough for Illyria to catch without difficulty. Come on, let's go. I wanna get this over with and get back to business.  
  
Oh believe me, Faith spread her hands out before her, This is definately gonna change business,' as you know it.  
  
We'll see, Was all Eve said, but the concern in her was not easily disguised. There was an ominous cast here, and time would see what treacheries waited for them in the days to come. Illyria fell into line behind Faith without a word, knowing Eve would follow.  
  
Ollen70: A weird, short little chapter that I may actually add into the next chapter when I get it completed, but I really wanted to get something posted on this. Sorry it's taken me so long. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews you guys have left. It helps me so much to know what people think. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

So, let me get all of this straight, Faith said, lifting her glass to her lips. They sat in a booth in a dim room, on seats padded with the skin of the apparently-much-hated animal Eve called the cow.' The slice of meat in front of her and the cold, white liquid in her own glass were all from the same source, which she found to be rather sad. You've been running all over the country with an ex-daemon, wiping out entire buildings full of Wolfram and Hart's finest. You can use magic and she's been impersonating Fred, who is now apparently dead, along with Gunn and Angel and Cordelia and pretty much everyone else from Team Angel.Yeah, that's pretty much it so far.And... Wesley? The amount of concern in the woman's voice - Illyria felt a strange stirring of pride that she could so easily identify such an emotion now - did her credit, as well as the darkness in her eyes from what she must surely have assumed.

He was the first one down. Illyria's hands curled into fists around her knife and fork without her permission. Eve's tone was casual. What, don't tell me you feel guilty or anything? Didn't he forgive you for all the stuff that went down between the two of you? The red haired woman flashed a sardonic smile at the black expression that filled Faith's face.

Where did you...?

Eve waved the question away. I read your file when I was still on the inside. I learned some... pretty interesting things... Faith's eyebrows quirked noticeably.

Does she know?I haven't told her yet, no.

A change came about the slayer, something that sang to Illyria in a way she hadn't felt for some time, since Eve had come to terms with the death of Lindsay. It would be wise for you if you decided to keep that tidbit to yourself.My my. Was that a threat?Oh, absolutely.

Eve laughed at that, drinking deeply from the chalice of the foul poison that she took nearly every evening now, whenever they found the chance to rest from their crusade to ruin the strongholds of their enemies. That was happening more and more frequently, given their unparalleled success. Wolfram and Hart, powerful as they might believe themselves, was being driven back down into the darkness. They could only rebuild so much so quickly. Unlike the vampire and the humans who followed him, Illyria knew that they were not omnipotent. Their strength was flagging - hers was growing.

So, how's your dear little watcher's council? I'm sure Buffy has it all whipped into shape by now.Haven't heard from Buffy in a few weeks, but yeah, that's pretty close to the truth. The council bends to the slayers now, which is the way it should have been all along. The woman Faith took a long drink from the tall glass before her. Too bad it took an explosion to finally teach all of them that, but it's a lesson well learned.And how's Buffy handling our little... situation? Eve's voice was a silky drawl, already aided by the noisome liquid she always took in excess.

Better than you might think, but I'd be lying if I told you she was taking it well. No offense, but the thought of you running around with one of the most powerful daemons we've ever come across wasn't doing too much for my nerves either.Can't say I'm surprised. Buffy doesn't seem like the type who'd get off at the idea of playing second fiddle for too long.Actually, that was the interesting part. Faith sat back, her smug smile very evident. It's not like the slayers get much of a chance to work incognito. With the two of you going on your great little world tour, it's amazing anybody in the daemon world even remembers that we exist. The girls managed to walk right into a hive, the night before I left, and blow the place apart without so much as blinking. The vamps were so shocked, they didn't even get up before the whole place was in pieces.

Eve laughed. I'd be more impressed if Blue and I didn't take on a building full of real daemons at least once a week.You're pushing them back, sure, but how long do you think it'll take before they decide to stop leading you on? If they really wanted to, do you think it would be all that hard for the Senior Partners to erase you from the face of the earth? Maybe not her, she gestured sidelong toward Illyria, since they probably haven't figured out just what the hell they can do against one of the ancients. You'll probably hold out better when you're around her, but sooner or later, you luck's gonna run out. Hate to break it to you, babe, but you're just a human. We're pretty fragile, when you come right down to it.Yeah, but I've got magic, and more than a little of it. I'm not exactly your standard human any more, though it's not like I ever was. Eve settled back against the cushions of the bench. If you've already forgotten, I was their protege. I don't remember all of it, but enough of the knowledge is still left. Every day I gain a little bit more power.Maybe you should talk to Willow - let her tell you just how well that worked out for her. Magic and vengeance don't really mix all that well.Believe me, I'm not quite deluded enough to try to end the grief of the world' by killing everybody, thanks. That was a pretty spiffy little free-for-all she had there though, wasn't it? Eve added, almost as an after thought. The scowl Faith gave her suggested that she didn't agree.

Listen, I didn't come find you just to bitch back and forth over beer.Really? Cause it kinda seems like...Just shut up for a second and let me talk, will you? Faith took a breath and Illyria could sense the tension seep from her. Eve didn't seem intimidated, but she held her peace for once, which was perhaps the most surprising. In the time Illyria had been in her company, the woman never appeared to possess self restraint in any quantity. Nothing at all like Wesley, or the two undeads, nor even the mortal Gunn. If you want to get ahead, you're going about it in the wrong way. I came and found you because I've run across some information that might interest you.Keep talking. Eve attempted a tone of mild amusement and failed. The sound of her companion's quickening pulse was nearly deafening to Illyria's ears.

Faith sat back, looking smug herself. The senior partners already know all about you. After all, you pretty much belonged to them while you were working on their side. But your buddy... Here, Illyria received a long, considering glance. Everybody who's anybody in the daemon world has heard of the ancients, but they've been asleep since before time began, as far as I can figure out.And since when did you become some kind of expert on all of this? Eve swilled the rest of her beverage. Illyria drank from her own glass, savoring the white liquid which, by contrast, seemed so pure.

I thought we agreed that you were going to shut up. Getting a scowl for her trouble didn't seem to deter Faith in the slightest. When Eve fell silent, she smirked again. I've got some contacts in Europe who've been looking into some serious shit that's going down around the hole in the world.

Illyria sat up at once. What is this?Yeah, I thought that'd get your attention. See, the Senior Partners aren't sure what to do about you. I mean, no surprise there, if nobody knew for sure if you were even real, how would they go about trying to fight you? And why, when they figured out the location of the well, would they risk more of the Ancients waking up?But that's not even a risk...!

Illyria waved Eve into silence. With no one to guard the gateway, the transpirations of the Ancients are beyond considering. If they find their way to the well, all will suffer.And now you see why I've come. Any levity in the female slayer was gone now. From what I've been able to scrape up, the Partners are sending everything powerful that they have left at that place. They're gonna shred it, while they think they've got you occupied. I'm sorry that I don't have more information on it, but I've taken the liberty of getting you plane tickets. I thought you'd wanna get going.And you're coming with us?

Faith pulled a white envelope out of her jacket, revealing three glossy strips of paper.

Yeah, I was thinkin' about it. Not like there's gonna be anything more interesting going down in the next... oh... few centuries. Besides, I've got a few questions that you haven't answered yet.

Eve crossed her arms, watching the paper strips warily. So ask.Yeah, whatever.

Ollen70: Again, I'm sorry that this is so hideously short and that I seem to have dropped off the face of the earth. I never really knew exactly where this fic was going, so it's taken quite a bit of time to get it back on its feet. If you have any plot suggestions or general comments, I'd love to hear them. A great big Thanks' goes out to all of my wonderful reviewers. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten you!

This story is going to be finished, if it's the last thing I do. Given how much my computer seems to hate me at the moment, that might not be so far from the truth. Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

Ollen70: Some of the technology will be familiar to you if you've seen Chrono Crusade. Shame on Joss Wheadon for not thinking of it first, because it fits so well with the series. So, I'm going to borrow it for this story, and hope I don't get made fun of too much for it.

This is sort of a continuation of chapter six, because it isn't very long, but I promise that new stuff is coming very shortly. Thanks a million, to everyone who gave me their feedback. It always helps so much.

Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to the creators of by writing this. No profit is being made from this story - it's strictly for entertainment.

Chapter 7

They stood alongside a long, gray strip of stone, stretching out into the distance. A great deal of human technology littered the place, even filling the air as the devices roared off from the ground. Illyria watched it in disgust. A waste of the earth.

Humans, born without inherent power, were forced to rely on such inefficient, inelegant things, and it was sickening. They should have been so much more than that - She had seen the small bit of potential within their race, but it was so often all but overshadowed by the grotesqueness of their very existence. Smiling faintly to herself, she watched Eve and Faith conduct their business. How frustrating it must be for the Wolf, Ram and Heart, to know that their empire was so threatened by such a paltry creature as Eve. Yes, without Illyria at her side, Eve likely would have died long ago, but that was another matter.

Illyria didn't know the name of the device the woman called Faith held in her hand, though she'd seen one before. It fit the contours of her palm, gripped loosely as it was so that her fingers could close around a projecting handle. Made of silver metal, it flashed dimly in the lamp light. A pretty object, but by no means as beautiful as the many wonders she had seen in her long years.

A gun? You've gotta be kidding me. Eve's expression spoke of outright disgust. Illyria was uncertain as to why. It was certainly no more gaudy an object than the rings that pierced the woman's ears, or the bands of silver she wore around her neck, regardless the purpose it was meant to serve.

You'll want it before the end, believe me.Is this the new answer to daemon-slaying? You just shoot them? Eve still looked at the gun' dubiously, though it was obvious Faith meant for her to take it. Wow, you guys've really gone down hill. What, was there a shortage on stakes or something?We entered into a... well, a partnership, I guess you could say. Faith brushed back her hair with one free hand, still holding loosely onto the gun. The slayers've been around for, oh, what, like two thousand years or something? Probably more. Anyway, we're still new to the concept of fighting en masse, you know? Pulling back on a part of the handle, Faith emptied four smaller ovals into her hand. The Catholics, though... those are people who know what's they're doin', ya know? People think The Exorcist' an' sorta brush the whole thing off, but they've got it figured out. If you can't beat em with stakes and crap, then pack some bullets full of chrism and then blow the shit out of Holy oil? That's all that's in them? Eve finally stretched out two fingers, accepting one of the silver ovals delicately. Nothing else in the cartridge?They'll still hurt people. I mean, it's a metal ball flyin' at you at a hundred miles an hour. Bound to hurt something when it hits. The thing is, once the cartridge enters, that's where the difference shows up. In a person, nothing's gonna happen. In a daemon, it's gonna burn straight through.Hmm. Not bad shit, slayer. Eve held out her hand again, this time accepting the weapon when it was offered. But what about daemons who aren't gonna be put down by a little chrism? Something like that rock creature you guys had so much trouble with, back in L.A.?That's where these come in. The bullets Faith offered were brighter, and covered with an ancient script that Illyria could almost read, though the characters were primitive and oddly formed. Latin prayer and blessed silver, filled with some type of white spell that makes the people who're into that kinda stuff shaky. You hit a vamp with one of these, you're gonna cleanse a whole city block in the process. Never seen nothin' like it.Another catholic thing?Yeah. Like I said, they're good at what they do.How am I supposed to get it on the plane? They're pissy about that kind of thing.Don't worry about it. We'll make sure it gets there. I got it over here to you, didn't I?

Eve smiled tersely, and it never reached her eyes. Illyria only watched while the slayer delved into her leather bag, drawing out other oddments that she pressed into Eve's hands.

Got a few other goodies for ya, too. Courtesy of the watcher's council. Still gettin' back on their feet, but they dug up some good stuff. She held out a white arm band, marked with a silver cross. The threads were soaked in holy water. Screams virtue' to anything undead. They'll be able to find you with their eyes closed while you've got it on, but if they touch you, you'll get to watch one hell of a show.Better than nothing, I guess.Markers mean nothing. My power continues to grow. Eve looked at her flatly, but Faith's eyes sharpened, as if she understood what Illyria meant. As her power returned, all daemons of any respectable strength would be able to sense it. Holy power or not, she would not be at all difficult to find, to a creature that knew where to look.

Shaking her head slowly, Faith pulled a silver band from her finger, offering it to Eve. Again the shorter woman accepted it reluctantly, cringing when it fell into her open palm. The aura that emanated from the plain metal surface was stronger, compared to the other objects, but still nothing against Illyria's own power.

Ring's made of the same stuff as the bullets. Got a drop of saint's blood in it too, for good measure, I guess. It's supposed to offer protection, and do some other stuff too, but I'm not really too sure what, exactly.Well, what's the next step? We get on the plane, we go to the well, then what?I'm way ahead of you there, sweetie, Faith smiled disarmingly. Eve sneered. If Faith noticed- and Illyria had no doubt that she did - she chose to say nothing. The gang's already gonna be waiting for us. If the senior partners have somethin' bad going down around the well, we'll need people there to clean things up before you can go in.Before _we _can go in? It was a telling omission, one that Illyria was glad Eve had not overlooked. Where are you gonna be? Faith laughed, tossing her hair once again.

You'll be fine with Blue. I'm running border duty, making sure nobody tries something stupid while you're in the well. You're gonna want a direct line of escape, if something goes wrong.

Reasonable, for human logic. Illyria deemed it wise not to mention that the senior partners could wield magic greater than any human who had ever lived, and that if they wished to seal the well, nothing Faith could do would matter. Instead, she tilted her head and waited, expecting everything. This was the moment to be savored - the approach of their battle. Everything else had been trial, preparation for what would soon take place. Illyria licked her lips, glad that patience, as always, had served her so very well.

Ollen70: Yes, a very brief chapter. More than anything, this is to remind my readers that I haven't forgotten this story, and that much more is coming very briefly. I have a few details to hammer out for the coming chapter, so any feedback is, as always, very greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.


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